12 Days of Shipmas: Three French Hens
by Juliet'sEmoPhase
Summary: Steve tries to surprise Bucky and the others with a real Christmas Day, but Bucky also has a different kind of surprise for Steve in return. Post Winter Soldier, no smut.


Author's Notes 07-01-16: So, in case you missed it on Tumblr, I started writing twelve stories in the run-up to Christmas, featuring my favourite ships from my favourite fandoms.

Unfortunately, I became extremely ill and had to visit the hospital a few days before Christmas. Thankfully I'm fine now, but it meant I was late posting a couple of the fics on time, and delayed entirely in writing the last four. As I am better now I am working on these as fast as possible, so hopefully they will all be posted soon! Thank you for your patience.

If you want to see the list of fandoms to come, or the prompt list I have been working from, please go to my Tumblr (at julietsemophase) and look for the "12 Days of Shipmas" link on my homepage where all the stories are logged.

Okay! So we've caught up to one of my all time favourite OTPs, and actually my fave OT4, Stucky (aka Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes) from Captain America, along with Nat and Sam in tow :-D

I am definitely in super denial about how Civil War is going to rip my heart out and stamp it to pieces lol, so this is extremely fluffy 3

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Three French Hens

"What the hell is going on!"

Steve, sheepishly, whipped his head around as he fanned the smoke billowing from the oven to see the three bodies rushing into is quarters. Bucky was at the front, eyes wide with concern as Steve spluttered.

"Nat!" he moaned in protest to the redhead chuckled and closed the door out into the Avengers' complex. "You were supposed to keep them out of here until 2!"

"Good job we saw through her lies and came to your rescue," Bucky grumbled, coming over to the kitchenette the other side of the breakfast island, and groaned in horror at what Steve was doing.

"Yeah," laughed Sam, swinging into one of the tall stools. "I thought you were supposed to be a spy Nat?"

She smirked at him and leaned her elbows on the bar, flicking her hair back. "What can I say?" she purred in a less than remorseful way. "Christmas makes me gooey, I slipped up."

"Oh this is bad," Bucky grimaced, as Steve set the turkey tray down on the cooling rack.

Steve huffed. "It's not _that_ bad," he grumbled. Bucky arched an eyebrow at him, but Steve threw his hand out defensively at the bird smouldering away. "It's just a little…crispy!"

"Okay," said Natasha, playing mom. "I think if anyone can manage a rescue, it's us. Sam, crack out the hard liquor, Buck, do what you can with the turkey, I'll lay the-"

She blinked as she jogged down the few steps to the den and rounded the corner. "What was that?" Steve called down smugly.

Nat looked back up at them. "Well would you look at that. Come over here boys," she said to Bucky and Sam, slipping her hands into the pockets of her jeans and smiling fondly into the living room.

Bucky was reluctant to leave the slightly char-grilled meat and potatoes, but Steve took his arm, hard and cold under his sweater but no longer unexpected to his touch, and steered him to where Nat was now standing with Sam. He wanted to see Bucky's face when they rounded the corner.

Before embarking on his dubious adventure in cooking, Steve had spent the morning with all the decorations he'd snuck into the base over the past few weeks, trimming a huge tree that filled the apartment with the fresh smell of pine, hanging lights and garlands from the frames on his walls, and laying the table with an actual cloth and proper napkins, all finished with warm red candles and new crystal-ware that glinted in the fairy lights.

"Damn Cap," Sam said, crossing his arms over his chest. "When did you get all domesticated?"

"1938," Bucky said in a far off voice, his eyes alight at all the splendour in front of them. "Our first Christmas together. My mom let him help…" He trailed off and turned to Steve, who couldn't quell the pride blossoming in his stomach. He may have almost incinerated dinner, but he'd not celebrated a proper Christmas in several decades, and he meant to do it right.

"Okay then," said Nat happily. "I think that deserves a toast."

Sam popped the corks from a couple of the bottles of red wine Tony had sent over, and Steve dreaded to think how much they had cost. Tony though, knew he couldn't get drunk, so always got him the stuff that tasted the nicest instead, that way they could all enjoy it. Steve gave him and Pepper a silent thanks as they raised their glasses together, hoping they were enjoying their Christmas Day too.

Bucky lost himself in the kitchen, removing the blackened tips from the turkey, saving the majority of it, before finishing the final touches on the roast potatoes, colourful veg and thick, meaty gravy.

He may had triumphed with the decorations, but Steve was now under firm instructions to stay put whilst the rest of the food was dished up, lest he do any more damage. Nat and Sam had put some obnoxious Christmas songs on Spotify that were nothing like the carols Steve and Buck had grown up with, but he found himself becoming fond of them anyway as his friends sang loudly along to them.

"Out the way you big lump," Bucky admonished, kissing Steve's cheek as he steered his hips out of the way so he could serve. Steve was so stunned he just blinked a moment, but Bucky didn't seem to think he'd done anything out of the ordinary as he darted back and forth with pans of carrots and hot, wet stuffing.

Steve looked over to Nat and Sam, who were waltzing playfully, and they both grinned at him. Obviously, they had _definitely_ seen the kiss.

But Steve realised Buck was right. It was actually no big deal, it was perfectly natural. In fact as he whizzed around again, loading the plates with the last of the potatoes, Steve automatically stuck his arm out and grabbed his best friend by the waist.

"Thank you," he said fondly, and it was Bucky's turn to blink in surprise.

"For what?" he asked.

Steve just shrugged. "Always being there to save my ass,"

"I'm pretty sure he wants to do other things to your ass too," Nat smirked, causing Steve to blush furiously, but he didn't let go of Bucky's waist.

"Okay!" Sam announced, trying to sound outraged but not quite hiding his laugh either. "We will see you in the den." He seized the open bottle of wine and steered Natasha down the steps, but not before she could turn and give Steve a very blatant wink.

Bucky cleared his throat. "I don't-" he stammered, still holding the empty roasting tray. "What did she-?"

But Steve just laughed softly and took the tray from Bucky's hands. "I think what she meant," he said, moving around so now _both_ his hands were on Bucky's hips. "Is it's 2015, and it's probably about time we got with the times." He was done being embarrassed. He was done wasting time.

Bucky bit his lower lip and looked up at him with his big blue eyes. Eyes that had seen way more than their fair share of horror and hardship. It was Christmas day, and suddenly, Steve wanted to give him _everything._

"How?" Bucky asked quietly.

Steve smiled. "Like this," he replied, before leaning over, and gently pressing his lips to Bucky's.

The kitchen was swimming with the delicious smells of the dinner they'd been able to salvage. The Christmas songs still played in the background, and Bucky's lips were so warm and soft. Steve couldn't help but feel awash with contentment.

Until the wolf-whistle broke through their spell.

"Get a room!" Nat hollered as she and Sam peeked around the corner of the den.

"Or bring us dinner!" Sam chimed in, his good-will vanished in place of the goofiest grin.

Steve and Bucky laughed shyly as they pulled their mouths apart, but still kept their hands wrapped around each other. "Merry Christmas," Steve whispered.

"Merry Christmas to you too," Bucky told him back, blue eyes shining.

"'Bout damn time," someone muttered from the other room.

End


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